A Bride For The Alien King (Protectors 0f Svante Book 1)

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A Bride For The Alien King (Protectors 0f Svante Book 1) Page 23

by Roxie Ray


  Rosa pushed the hair back from her face and gave me a small smile that was still seeped in sadness. “Thank you.”

  “I am your servant, my Queen,” I replied, bowing low in front of her.

  I took her hand and led her back into our bedroom. She followed my lead in distracted silence; I could tell she had something specific on her mind. I sat her down on the edge of the bed and looked at her with concern.

  “What’s wrong, my Queen?” I asked.

  “The Gnosees,” she responded. “The Sives have all the information they need.”

  “I’m glad you gave them the information they needed,” I said immediately. “If you hadn’t, they might have killed you, too.”

  Rosa looked down. “Philzar was the one who extracted the information about the Gnosees from my mind,” she told me.

  I stiffened at the sound of his name. “Then you were powerless to stop him. He’s an expert mind reader.”

  “Then why couldn’t he read Sophia’s mind?” Rosa asked. “He didn’t even really try. Is the soul bond really that strong?”

  “It is.” I nodded. “It is the strongest bond there is. Philzar probably knew he would be wasting his time trying to pry information out of Sophia. She was tied to Brags, and his psychic barriers would have been too strong to break down.”

  Rosa nodded. “It sounds… intense.”

  “It is the ultimate commitment,” I agreed.

  Rosa pushed herself up off the bed and stepped closer to me. Her eyes lifted to mine, and I saw the blue in them burst to life.

  “I want that,” she said softly, as she took my hand. “I want to have that connection with you.”

  I smiled. “We will, my love,” I assured her. “When the time is right we will have our mating ceremony and —”

  “No,” Rosa interrupted. “I don’t want to wait.”

  “What are you saying?” I asked hesitantly.

  “I’m saying I don’t want to wait to have a mating ceremony. I want to mate with you right now. I want to form the soul bond with you right now.”

  I felt my heartbeat ratchet up. Mating was an intense and deeply personal experience. It was usually done in the presence of a high priest and several close family members, but many young Svantian couples had been known to sneak away and do it on their own, with no witnesses present.

  “Are you sure?” I asked.

  “Yes, I am.” She nodded.

  “Rosa,” I said softly. “I need you to understand what this means. Mating creates a permanent connection. It is not something that can be undone.”

  Rosa frowned a little and I saw her shoulders hunch. “Are you saying… you don’t want to mate with me now?” she asked.

  Hurt flashed across her eyes, and I rushed to reassure her. “Of course I want to mate with you,” I said. “There is nothing I want more —”

  “Then why does it feel like you’re trying to talk me out of it?” Rosa asked.

  I took a deep breath and settled my eyes on her. “Because I don’t want you to feel forced or pressured into this decision in any way. I want it to be your choice, completely.”

  She frowned, and I knew she would need more of an explanation. She had just bared her soul to me, and I thought it only fair that I do the same.

  “I’ve never shared much about my parents, have I?” I asked.

  Rosa’s smile was small. “You haven’t,” she said, taking my hand and holding it up to her heart. “But I hope you know now that you can tell me anything. Let me share your pain.”

  They were the same words I had said to her only a few moments ago. “My parents’ marriage was not conventional. It was a union built on a lie.”

  “What was the lie?” Rosa asked.

  I sighed deeply. “My mother did not want to marry at all. She was one of our few Svantian females. She was strong and beautiful, and like most other Svantians, she wanted battle and autonomy. She didn’t want to be a wife or a mother.”

  “But your father convinced her to marry him in the end?” Rosa asked.

  “He didn’t convince her,” I replied. “He forced her. I was the product of my mother’s pain, born out of rape.”

  Rosa froze for a moment, and I saw the hairs on her arms stand at attention. “You can’t know that,” she said softly.

  “I do know it,” I replied. “My mother told me herself.”

  Rosa’s sharp intake of breath pierced through me, and her grip on my hand tightened. Despite how hard I thought it would be to tell this great unspoken secret, it suddenly became easier. There were moments when it felt like Rosa and I already had a soul bond. Our connection transcended even Svantian law and custom. It was meant to be from the beginning.

  That gave me hope. Perhaps I could escape the curse of becoming my father. Perhaps Rosa could escape the suffering my mother had endured.

  “Your… your mother told you that you were born out of rape?”

  “Do not think less of her,” I said. “She suffered greatly at my father’s hands. She had no freedom and no friends. She was trapped in a life she loathed, and I was the living, breathing reminder of why.”

  “You were a child,” Rosa said softly. “You didn’t ask to be born.”

  “No, my father wanted me born,” I replied. “She looked at me and saw him.”

  My mother’s scales had run from a deep navy color into a muted blue as they climbed up her arms and neck. Her hair was the color of rich soil, and her eyes were the color of Earth’s oceans on a stormy day. They were a little brown, a little blue, and filled with chaos and thunder.

  She refused to wear dresses. She walked around the castle in battle armor as though a war was likely to dance onto our doorstep at a moment’s notice. I didn’t realize it until later, but she was living a war of her own, one she waged against my father. Perhaps that was why she insisted on dressing the part.

  “Were you ever close with her?” Rosa asked, as though she were scared of the answer to that question.

  The memories I had of my mother were broken up into fragmented pieces. I didn’t remember full conversations, just snippets of sentences. I remembered flashes — singular moments that stood out and then disappeared.

  I had only one clear, full, unobstructed memory of her. There were times in moments of complete quiet when I would pull that memory out and turn it over in my head.

  I was walking through to the stables when I heard the muffled sounds of grunting coming from the courtyard where the soldiers trained. As I glanced over, I saw my mother with a sword in her hand. She was swinging it high, turning with the kind of grace you’d expect from a dancer. She brought her sword down, and it struck steel. She was not alone. She had a sparring partner, a guard named Ured who had served the castle since I was an infant.

  I snuck a little closer and watched the two of them spar. Ured was skilled, but I couldn’t take my eyes off my mother. She moved like she had been born with a sword in hand. She did a twisted somersault, bent low, sent a kick at Ured’s knees, and then she slammed the sword out of his hands. He rushed to grab his fallen weapon, but she already had the point of her own sword at his throat.

  I saw the steady rise and fall of her chest, heart beating in time with Ured’s. There was something very intimate about the moment, and it made me feel like I needed to hide and watch them in secret.

  Then I saw the ferocity in her expression fall, as she dropped her sword and smiled. Ured’s answering smile made me very uncomfortable; I had only seen nine winters, but I knew enough to know that my father would not like the familiarity with which Ured was interacting with my mother.

  Perhaps nervousness made me clumsy, but I stepped back on a broken branch and tripped. The noise caught their attention, and before I had stood up again, my mother was standing over and the smile had disappeared from her face.

  “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

  “I was going to the stables,” I replied meekly.

  “You were spying on me,” she said.

/>   I cringed back at the accusation. I looked up and realized that Ured had disappeared. It was like he had never been there at all. “Is Ured your friend?” I asked.

  Her eyes froze. She stared at me for a long time. “He is my teacher,” she replied, at last. “He teaches me to fight.”

  “You’re a good fighter,” I said.

  She cocked her head to the side, and then a slow smile spread across her face. “You think so?”

  I nodded emphatically, shocked at how different she looked wearing that smile. “I bet you can beat father in a fight.”

  Almost instantly, I wished I hadn’t mentioned my father. Her eyes always clouded over whenever he was brought up.

  “Come,” she said. “Let’s go.”

  “Where are we going?” I asked cautiously.

  “To the stables,” she replied. “I’m going to ride with you today.”

  We spent the whole afternoon riding our Svetcors and racing across the hills that surrounded Elisior castle.

  Coming out of the memory, I looked at Rosa, the words flowing more easily now. “We never shared another afternoon like that, nor did my mother ever choose to spend time with me again, but I was grateful to have received that day with her. It’s how I remember her, even now.”

  “What happened to your mother?” Rosa asked.

  “She threw herself off Rixor Tower just after my fifteenth winter,” I replied.

  Rosa gasped. “She killed herself?”

  I nodded. “My father tore down the tower shortly afterwards, and now, no one ever speaks of it.”

  Rosa slid closer to me so that she was practically on my lap. She stared into my eyes and said nothing. She didn’t have to speak.

  “I’m glad you told me,” she finally said.

  I lowered my head. “So you see now why I want you to be sure that this is what you want. I don’t want to watch you wilt away with regret.”

  “I appreciate that,” Rosa said. “But your mother was forced into her life. I’m choosing mine.”

  “You were not so certain when you were on Earth,” I pointed out.

  “Because I didn’t know you,” Rosa replied. “But now I do. And there isn’t anything I’ve wanted more.”

  I took a deep breath, trying hard to contain my joy. I bent down and kissed her cheeks, and then her lips.

  “Will you get into trouble for doing this in private?” Rosa asked. “Without a high priest or witnesses?”

  “We can do a simple mating ceremony to appease the people if it comes to that,” I said. “But at the moment, I don’t care. I want to do this.”

  Rosa’s smile was like sunshine after a winter’s storm. She made me feel both weak and strong in the same breath. I hadn’t even realized it was possible to feel such different emotions at the same time.

  I went to my weapons display case and picked one of my favorite blades. It was pure Svantian steel, set in a bronzed hilt that was carved from top to bottom. I took Rosa’s hand and led her to our private observation deck. We could see the twinkling of stars in the distance; they cast their silvery light upon us like a blessing.

  “Repeat after me,” I told Rosa, as I kept a tight grip on her hand. “I swear this to the Gods above.”

  “I swear this to the Gods above,” Rosa repeated solemnly.

  “I bind myself to this being for now into eternity. Let our love burn into infinity and beyond.”

  Rosa repeated the words; her mouth formed the sentences like a prayer. As she finished speaking, I realized that tears sparkled in her eyes. Once she was done, I repeated the same words, feeling their weight fall over me like a kiss.

  When the prayer was done, I lifted the dagger to my hand, and Rosa offered me her finger unreservedly.

  I raised my eyebrows. “You are sure?”

  “I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” Rosa said without hesitation. “I used to wonder why I survived through all those years, the drugs, the guilt, the near overdose, and the suicide attempt. You are why I survived. I needed to find you.”

  Her words filled me with ecstatic joy, and I felt a prick of guilt for feeling so happy when I knew Brags was trying to live through his darkest moment. But I could not think of that now. I wanted to be able to savor this moment with Rosa. Mating ceremonies were intensely sacred rituals, and there could not be a second one.

  I pressed the tip of the dagger into her finger and watched as a drop of ruby red blood blossomed against her pale skin. Then I did the same with my own finger. My blood was darker than hers, and I had to press much harder before the dot of blood became a drop.

  I offered her my finger at the same moment she offered me hers. Her finger slipped into my mouth, her blood coating my tongue. At the same time, the luxurious warmth of her mouth enclosed my finger. I felt myself stiffen instantly.

  Her blood was salty, but it contained a hint of sweetness that reminded me of fine wine. When she pulled her finger away, I was throbbing with desire for her and could feel the soul bond starting to take shape. It was a gentle thrum on the outer ridges of my being, a wave of energy that was creeping up on me little by little. I had never felt anything so powerfully intense.

  “What are you feeling?” I asked Rosa, curious about her experience.

  “I feel… like my body has just come alive,” she replied, choosing her words with care. “It’s like I want to jump out of myself. I can barely describe the feeling…”

  I realized that I knew exactly what she was trying to articulate. It was not something you could understand without having been through it yourself. I pulled her to me and kissed her passionately. My body ignited into flames, and electricity jolted through me before settling around my crotch.

  My cock throbbed against the fabric of my pants, but I was too busy pulling off Rosa’s sheer sheath to worry about my own clothes. I heard the rip of tearing fabric, and within seconds, she was standing naked in my arms. She shivered against me, but her body was warm and supple.

  I ran my hands down her spine and over her firm buttocks, grabbing ahold of her and pulling her legs up around my hips. Then I walked her to the bed and lay her down against the sheets. Her eyes were filled with the same burning desire I felt. Her hair lay strewn around her head, and her nipples were hard against my chest as I sank against her.

  Her arms wrapped around my hips and my cock pushed against her thigh. I could feel the soul bond take shape. It was tying us together already, and it would cement itself firmly once I had slipped inside Rosa and we were truly one. I kissed her lips, her neck, and her breasts gently as her hands stroked the arch of my back.

  I dipped my head down and took one of her nipples into my mouth. She sighed, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I explored the moist warmth between her legs with my fingers first, preparing her, and then I slipped inside her. She gasped, and her eyes went wide with amazement.

  I felt the soul bond in the immediate and undeniable connection that bloomed between us. Rosa’s mind was blocked to me, but I could sense other things about how she was feeling. She loved the way my cock felt inside her. She wanted me to go deeper. She loved the way my lips glided over her nipples, but she especially loved when my tongue grazed over them. I could sense the layers of her feelings — most predominantly love mixed in with desire. But beneath it was relief that I was safe, gratitude that she could be truly be herself with me now, lingering sadness over Sophia’s death, and half a dozen other little kernels of emotion that made up the whole.

  “I can feel what you’re feeling,” Rosa gasped, as I pushed in and out of her.

  I groaned. “What am I feeling?” I asked, passion coating my words in heavy breathes.

  “You don’t want this moment to ever end,” she sighed, as her eyes rolled back in her head. “You would give up your crown if it meant protecting me. You would give up anything just to be with me.”

  I nipped at her neck. “Now you know,” I said breathlessly.

  “We both do,” she gasped, and I slippe
d deeper inside her.

  23

  Rosa

  Landing on Svante the second time was a very different experience. The mood was somber, weighed down with a thick shroud of fear and worry that was underpinned by anger. It was more than just a reaction to Sophia’s death. Bis’er and his minions had landed on Svante many hours before we had cleared her atmosphere.

  Quatix walked down the exit ramp with great thundering footsteps that seemed to echo across the mountain range. I followed behind, looking at the row of Svantian guards that had formed an impressive line in front of the Zernike. Vuks was standing in front of them; his face was impassive, but I saw the irate flash of fire in his eyes. He looked even larger than when I last saw him, and I noticed that his right arm was heavily bandaged.

  “My King,” Vuks said, bowing low.

  All the other guards and the remaining protectors followed suit and bowed in greeting. Their expressions were difficult to read. I read embarrassment on some soldiers’ faces and indignation on others.

  “They came?”

  “Yes, My Lord,” Vuks replied. “We were not prepared for the attack.”

  I stood at Quatix’s side and sensed the foreboding that was building up inside him. He already suspected what Vuks was about to tell him, and despite the miracle he was praying for, he had little hope. He was craving my touch, and I realized that I wouldn’t have known that if it hadn’t been for our soul bond. I reached out instinctively and placed my hand around his arm.

  “We sent messages,” Quatix said.

  “We received none of them,” Vuks replied.

  Quatix stiffened, and I felt the panic waft off him. “Are they gone?” he asked. His voice betrayed none of the turmoil that he was experiencing within.

 

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